


Laying Into Love

by TheSmallTownGirl



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Domestic Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Firsts, Fluff, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Love Confessions, M/M, Simon Snow Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23796136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmallTownGirl/pseuds/TheSmallTownGirl
Summary: The boys experience many firsts as Simon spends his first night at Baz's flat.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 14
Kudos: 142





	Laying Into Love

"Alright, tosser. I s'pose I better get going," I say, slowly slipping my shoes on. I've been in Baz's flat all day. We've just been watching movies and snogging. (I couldn't snog him for a long bit. I've been getting a bit better.) But now, after being here all day, being that it's bloody 11 o'clock at night, I figured I should head out. (When did it get so late?) Baz is looking at me like he wants to say something. Once I've got my things on, I walk over into his open arms and cling there for a moment. ( _Please, please ask me to stay_.) His arms are so comforting and warming around my back. The feeling never gets old, even though I've been wrapped in him all day.

He mutters something into my hair (wanker is still fucking taller than me. And doesn't he know it), but I can't decipher his muffled words. I step away from his arms and say, "What'd you say?" He looks down and blushes (he fed just an hour ago), looking awkward.

"I, erm-" He never stutters - not even when he's nervous - so by extension, it's making _me_ nervous. "Or you could stay?" It's phrased like a question. Part of me wanted him to plead it; for him to _tell me_ 'stay'. But with all of my mental... _things_ , I know he'd never demand or push. Mostly, I'm thankful. (I also wish people would stop acting like I'll _break_.) (And _so what_ if I do?) But thinking about staying with him- insinuating that we would do _things_ , I start getting anxious. He widens his eyes and blushes harder. "Not to... _do_ anything. Just- it's _late_ , and I just thought maybe you'd like to spend the night for once. You don't _have_ to, of course, it's just-" He's adorable when he rambles.

I cut him off, relieved that he said we didn't have to do anything. (I wish I could get my _fucking_ shit together so we _could_ do things. Merlin knows there are things I'd like to do to him. For him to do to me. I just... _can't_ , yet.) "Okay." He stops in the middle of his sentence. The tension around his eyes relieves a bit and he smiles his soft smile- the one he saves for me.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I could sleep on the couch or-"

"-or you could sleep in the bed? With me? Not to do anything, I just," He cuts off his own words. It's hard for us, sometimes. To talk. To share what we feel. (We both know fuck-all about communicating. We're better, but. It's still hard.) "I'd just like it if you did." I can feel a yawn rising in the back of my throat, and I'm too bloody tired to feel particularly worried about being in the same bed as him. I know he won't do anything; I trust him. So I nod my head and take off my shoes and jacket. He lends me a pair of pyjamas (that smell _perfectly_ like him. The smell itself nearly gives me a right hard-on.)

Soon, we're both dressed and under the covers in his bed. It's like being enveloped in Baz himself. His sheets are so soft against my ankles, and there's plenty of room for us to be on opposite sides of the bed while still being comfortable. But... I don't really _want_ to be on opposite sides of the bed, even if there _is_ enough room. I know he's just trying to respect my boundaries, and that's _lovely_ , and it _is_ the first time we're sharing a bed, but. Well. I think I can do a bit more. We cuddle on the couch, after all. This isn't much different.

I can feel his cold nearly against my back as I scoot a bit closer, even though we're still facing opposite sides. I let my hand fall in the space between us, wondering if he'll notice and grab it. (Of course he'll _notice_. He's a _vampire_. It's just a matter of if he's willing to _take it._ ) ( _Maybe he's repulsed by you_ , the small voice in my mind whispers. I tell it to fuck off. Just for _once_ , I'd like to touch and hold my boyfriend without losing control. Just _once_.)

My prayers are answered as I feel his hand fall into mine. I lace my fingers into his to tell him it's okay. And then I scoot a bit closer. I just wish he'd roll over, so I could, too. ( _Why won't he roll over?_ ) Maybe I'll roll over, first. (He's always the one to start things- not that I mind, since he always asks if it's okay first. Maybe I'll jumpstart this one.) Sleeping in the same bed with him is a first. Hell, sleeping over at his flat is a first, too. A lot of firsts tonight. We can add one more; the first time _I_ start something. I'm going to roll over. (I swear I'm going to- I just need to take a breath first. And then make sure the voice stays gone for the time being. Then I will. _I will, I will, I will._ )

When I _finally_ turn, I see that he's already facing me, eyes open. Like he was watching me. Which I s'pose is fine, if not a little creepy. (Then again, he watched me when we were in Watford, too. Guess I did, as well, if I'm honest.) I look into his eyes now, seeing nothing but patience in them. (A large juxtaposition to the old Baz who told me to piss off whenever he got the chance.) He tugs me a little closer, and I oblige. My heart constricts out of... _something_. (Fear, love, anxiousness- I've no bloody clue.) But whatever it is is making me feel a bit crackers, so I take a deep breath and lean into the feeling. Tell myself that it's alright to feel like this. That I'm on the arms of someone who I care about - who cares about _me_ \- very much. I'm safe in his arms, and he's _not going anywhere_. He arches a perfect brow.

"Is this okay?" He whispers. I smile back and nod me head. He doesn't look convinced, though, so I get even closer and nudge his nose with mine. (I love his crooked nose. It reminds me that even through all of the bad stuff in the past, he's still choosing to be with me. His terrible boyfriend.) I lace our legs together too, for emphasis. He smiles a bit and exhales. (From release, I'd suppose.) (I hate that my boyfriend thinks he needs _permission_ to touch me. _Just fucking touch me like I'm not broken_.) (I _am_ broken, and I s'pose it's _good_ that he touches me like it. I just... I guess I just wish I wasn't so he wouldn't have to.)

We're laying with our arms wrapped around each other, my head on his chest and his face in my hair. We're like this for a long while, and just as I'm starting to fall asleep, Baz says something. "Hey Simon?" He whispers. I mumble in response so he knows I'm listening. He's quiet for a long time, and at first I think he's fallen asleep. Then he says, "I love you," and suddenly I'm thinking a lot of things. "You don't have to say anything. I know that you probably don't. I just... I thought you should know." Instead of saying anything (because at this point, I don't think I'm _able_ to, I place a kiss at his jaw. "Is that okay?" He sounds so unsure of himself. ( _Someone loves me_.) (Not just someone; _Baz_ loves me.) I nod slowly, thinking if I say anything, my voice will come out as only a squeak.

The word 'fall' is peculiar. We _fall_ down. We _fall_ and die. I _fell_ down the stairs, and it hurt like a bloody fuck. Fall, fall, fall. It has a certain _negative_ connotation, doesn't it? Funny how we use it to say we've _fallen_ in love. Like it _hurts_. But- _this_ doesn't _hurt_. Baz loving me, and me loving him (I wish I could just _fucking_ say it)- it anything but hurts. It's soft and consuming and _lovely_. Like laying down in a bed after a long day. Why don't we say _lay_ into love? We don't crash into it, hurting the whole way through- it happens over time. Softly, sweetly. Through thick and thin. And when we finally feel it - when we finally _know_ it - it's like laying down, softly and slowly.

I've lain into love with Baz. I like the sound of that.


End file.
